


Working Out

by minis



Series: Prompts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Kink, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, Kissing, M/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: otpprompts, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:17:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minis/pseuds/minis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean works at Sandover and has no time to think about his fitness: he keeps eating too much and the result are now showing in the form of his colleague Sam noticing about his belly.<br/>Seriously, though, he needs to start working out. Unfortunately he hates gyms...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IWillAlwaysFindYou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillAlwaysFindYou/gifts).



> I wrote this for the prompt I found on #otpprompts, here [http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/128912641447/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-spotting-person-b-at](otpprompts);
> 
>    
>  _Imagine Person A of your OTP spotting Person B at the gym while they lift weights. Bonus if they have sex in the locker room or showers afterwards._
> 
>  Thank you ♥
> 
> I am sorry if any of this hurts your feelings, it was intended to be fun and I know by myself body issues are no joke; please, though, feel free to tell me if you find this annoying you in any way.

When Sam had pointed out the fact that Dean looked more “chubby”, Dean had answered that it was not his fault if the desk job he had gotten was so taxing.  
The daily routine at Sandover was stressful and Dean had come since a long way to cope with stress by eating incredible amounts of unhealthy food; yet, he could not help but agree with his colleague, since he himself had noticed the growing plumpness of his hands.  
If Sam noticed how Dean spent the rest of the evening at the Roadhouse in silence, he did not say a word about it.  
Later that night, on his way home, he glanced out of the window of his Chevy Impala, while driving lazily through the pouring rain; he came to a stop in front of the new gym: in fact, before leaving his colleague, he had made himself a mental note to check out the facility; the neon sign advertised a 24/7 opening, and Dean thought that he should at least give it a try and go ask for information.  
The man got out of the car in a swift move and, before making his entrance, he spared a glance to control that nobody had seen him. He felt like a thief and a bit paranoid .  
When Dean opened the door, he was met by the awful sound of tingling bells, which had him cringing.  
The girl at the reception looked at him unimpressed, but the man was sure that she had noticed his prominent belly, even through the layers of fabric that he had tried to hide it under; that made him uncomfortable, and he shuffled clumsily under the receptionist's gaze. Well, Dean was no girl, and was totally not wishing to bury himself underground, but he could not avoid feeling judged, which was something he hated.  
However self-conscious, the man decided to play grown up, refusing to look even in the slightest hurt by her reaction.  
It was with some reluctance that Lisa – the name he had picked up in between their conversation – presented him every offer: he would not have blamed her, since it was already half past ten, but it probably was more due to the fact that he asked her one too many times to repeat herself. Eventually Dean made up his mind and went for the full package, which would have given him any-time access to both the gym and the spa.  
Feeling content about his decision, that night the man went to bed feeling a bit enthusiastic.

* * *

 

Unfortunately when Dean Smith had decided to sign up to the gym, he had not considered how difficult it would have been to reconcile his daily working schedules and the necessity to exercise; thus a couple of weeks passed by without him ever setting foot at the gym.  
It was only some time later that the man realized just how badly he needed to workout: no matter how hard he refrained from eating fries and loads of pie, he had totally put some more weight on, if the reflection in the mirror was anything to go by. The man that was looking back at Dean was almost unrecognizable, what with the serious case of tummy bulging over his slacks and the flabby thighs; no wonder the guy at the grocery's had not flirted back!  
The man blushed and thought that it was time he got a hold on his life; no more time for moping, no more excuses. This was no end of the world, but Dean needed to get a grip on himself and he just needed to actually commit to the task, in order to accomplish it.  
Now felt like the best time to move his plump ass and head to the gym.  
Having just finished thinking all of this, Dean put on a loose jumpsuit he retrieved from the furthest corner of his wardrobe, grabbed an old duffel bag and stuffed it with a change and a towel; at last he left his apartment.  
In the rainy November night he felt at ease, and while driving his way to the gym, he thought that he should try walking to it, since it would not take long.  
When he arrived at the facility, he felt his determination falter, but he promptly replayed the mental image of his reflection and resumed in his purpose; as soon as Lisa saw him, she made a surprised face that she failed masking; she greeted him and showed him all the rooms, finally leaving him before the door of the locker room.  
“Here you go, Mr. Smith! I hope you find the experience pleasing enough”  
And with that she went back to her desk, leaving a befuddled Dean behind: the man spent some time wondering whether she had been making fun out of him, and then decided that yes, she probably had, but he would not care.  
With a shrug of indignation, he made his way to the nearest free bench, and gathered that there were just a few other customers apart from him: this made him feel better, because it meant less eyes out there ready to judge him.  
He decided to stick to his jumpsuit and eventually left the changing area to approach the weight room.  
Once he was in the new space, he saw only two other customers: a petite blonde who was kicking with force the punching bag, and spared him a curious glance, and a tall, lithe, man, with black hair, who did not flinch in the least, and kept exercising on the treadmill  
Dean felt relieved by his company: he thought they would not have made a fuss about his bad shape, and this injected him with renewed spirit.  
The man approached a treadmill, feeling unsure in his step, but thinking it a good starting point.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later Dean felt his body giving into exhaustion and damned his “good idea”.  
'Pleas, legs, don't leave me! Let's just make it to a quarter of hour and I won't ask anything more out of you!'  
The answer to the man's desperate prayer had come in the form of terrible cramps that menaced to make him stop running altogether.  
In any case Dean pulled out of himself five minutes more of exercising and just as the timer clicked away fifteen minutes, he jumped off the hellish machine.  
Meanwhile he tried to regain his breath, he saw the tall man smirking, and he could not stop jumping at his throat.  
“Hey, dude!”  
The man kept running, completely unfazed.  
“Skinny ass! What's so funny?”  
Dean felt his eyes blazing with rage, but the runner simply lowered his head and emitted a low chuckle. Just like a bull, Smith hurled himself at the other man, swiftly killing off the treadmill and hoping to see the man fumble to the ground; at the very last second, the runner managed to catch himself before hitting the floor, and now was regarding Dean with a blank expression.  
“You done laughing, man?!” asked Dean rudely.  
In the meantime the young woman had caught up with the both of them, and was now pulling Dean away from the runner  
“He was-”  
“I don't care what he's done to you, just stop it already the two of you!”  
Dean glanced back and forth between the blonde and the assbutt, but in the end he saw the point in the woman's words: he did not need to make a fool of himself more than he had just done.  
Eventually Smith shot the other man one last venomous glare, and turned his back to him, heading for the locker room to change.  
Once he was in the safety of the changing room, the man let himself slip on one of the benches; suddenly he was regretting the way he had snapped at the runner: he knew his nerves were already tired from the whole working-out-for-the-first-time thing, and he might as well have imagined the man's smirk. Plus <b>he</b> thought it stupid as hell to react so strongly to simple looks that he thought were judgmental. He promised himself he was going to prove himself an adult, by not going home in tears like some clumsy teenager: he would wait for the other man and face him properly.

* * *

 

At last it was the man who found him: Dean had just gotten out of the spray of the shower, when he was met by the tall figure of the runner; in the dim light of the room, Smith felt self-conscious about his nakedness and hoped the mysterious dark haired man would not notice his tummy. He made a beeline for the towel, which he had left hanging opposite his shower stall, and found himself too close to the other man.  
Promptly he tucked himself in the soft fabric of the towel, and finally Dean regained some self-assurance, but then he decided to turn to face the runner.  
“Are you planning to stare at me forever?” asked Smith, less angered than he would have wished.  
The other man smirked.  
“Would you please let me get to my things?”  
Dean was on the verge of hysteria and the sound of his own voice made him flush.  
“Are you deaf or wha-”  
It took him some time to realize the epic gaffe he had just made;  
“Ok, shoot, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-” once again he stopped himself, because if the other man were deaf, he would not be able to hear him.  
Flustered, Dean began to sign his question, but was interrupted by a chuckle.  
The man stilled and spared the runner the first look in quite some time. In a haze, Dean made out the man's strong features: he saw plump lips, deep blue eyes and a firm jaw; the exceptional pair of eyes were fixed on his very lips, and were glazed with want.  
Smith blushed one more time and shook his head: sure the man was gorgeous, but he could not actually be int-  
That was all the time the runner needed to grab Dean by his neck and make their lips collide; the blond man's brain blacked out altogether and could not do anything to prevent the moans from coming out of his mouth.  
The black-haired man thrust inelegantly his right hand under Dean's towel, and started groping his ass.  
“I hope you don't mind having a shower together, sexy” said his fascinating runner in a gravelly voice.  
Dean felt every word sinking down his groin and struggled to come up with anything intelligible; in the end he simply nodded his consent.  
“Great, because I'm dying to kiss that belly of yours”  
Still wearing his clothes, the sexy runner lead him to the furthest stall, and pushed the other man against the wall, kissing him hungrily.  
Before he lost his mind to the feeling of the runner's tongue on his neck, Dean thought that he was so coming back to the gym.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any mistakes you might find in this fic, but English is not my first language.  
> I am also sorry if this has given you any issue... no harm was intended.  
> I want to thank anyone who has taken the time to read this, and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I did writing it :)


End file.
